Eren's Haircut
by witheredredscarf
Summary: This was always a dreaded day. The moral of the story is - never let Mikasa style your hair.


It was usually peaceful within the small cabin beyond the woods, with the lingering sensation of fear behind them albeit ephemeral as they relaxed into a routine just as they had back at a military base, without the Military Police breathing down their backs. There were some days, however, such as one where the two siblings known as Eren Jaeger and Mikasa Ackerman had a day they dreaded.

Eren's haircut.

Eren only ever let Mikasa cut his hair, since he was the only one he trusted enough to cut his hair and Armin had once nearly left him bald. However, she was too rough and nearly left him bald at times. Only was it when Mikasa pointed out that Eren needed a haircut did he feel a pit in his stomach boil, wanting nothing more than to run away from the raven haired girl holding the brush, comb and scissors looking more like she was ready to slaughter someone with them than she was to cut his hair.

"Fine." the brunet stated, sitting in front of the Oriental hesitantly as she began to brush through his hair. He winced, anticipating the wince as she brushed out his tugs. Mikasa had been dreading this as much as she had, as his hair was a bane to her existence. It produced tugs easily longer and his chocolate fringe fell in his eyes more often than naught when it grew, obscuring his vision. The only thing she could do about that was think of the worst outcome that could have when they are out on the field in a brigade of Titans.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" she asked, brushing his hair smoothly, yet with a careful and precise motions. However, they still made the tanned titan shifter flinch as he could feel the tugs from his scalp.

"Not yet." he hissed in return, still anticipating the worst. The Oriental seemingly ignored the hiss. All his tugs had been particularly assertive until now, coming across a particular stubborn piece of hair. The raven haired youth cringed, sucking in a breath. Eren was waiting for this.

They were both waiting for this. Where she had to practically yank on Eren's hair.

"Eren," she begins, swallowing down her redness as she hoped this wouldn't happen. "I need you to be brave for me." With that, she yanks on the brush, foot placed at the back of the chair. The chocolate haired male can feel his scalp burn as she tugs, her strengthened arms flexed to pull at the stubborn tug that is at this moment, annoying her and burning him.

"OW!" he yelps, profanities falling from his mouth as his hands reach up to grab his hair before he lunges from the chair, sending his sister flying backwards into the wall as she yelps. The hair pulls from his scalp but he pretends not to notice from the already burning pain that flames his scalp. "Fuck this! I'm letting my hair grow out!"

Mikasa quickly rights herself, standing upright and grasping the brush with a ferocious grip that threatened to break it. Eren didn't replied, instead stomping for the door which he was nearly at to get away from his sister and her crazy way of treating his hair. This only served as a opportunity for the Oriental to run at him with top speed, jump on his back and wrap her legs around his torso so it looked much like she was hugging him. He stumbled, hands flying out to rest against the wall as his knees threaten to buckle under the weight of her strength.

"Wha-?! Mikasa, get off!" the chocolate haired boy yells, pondering whether to roll her off of him or leave her there. The ravenette ignores him, reaching for the comb and scissors on the Vanity next to them, his flailing around making her comb and cut his hair uneven...again. "You need..." she trails, spitting some of his hair out of her mouth. "...a haircut."

The latter of his two options is chosen for him as his knees give way, the weight of her strength too much to bare, leaving the Oriental to sit on his back as she combs and cuts his hair, oblivious to their comrades standing outside.

"I can hear them," announces the taller of the rest of them. "We're taking the back door."

"Agreed." says the male blond, knowing to stay out of his childhood friends' way when it is haircut time.

"I'm fine with that!" announces the auburn haired girl, looking more eager than ever just to run away and get away from it. The bald male next to her nods, nothing to say on the matter as he winces as he can hear Eren's yelp of pain and Mikasa's yelled apology. She probably bumped his head against the wall. However, there was the shortest of them with her kindness and compassion and innocent eyes that everyone thought she was much like a sweet goddess.

"Shouldn't we help him?" Historia asks in her bell-like voice, worried as blonde brows crease into worry. "It sounds like Mikasa's trying to kill him."

At this point, Jean turns around and stares down at the short girl, making her wonder what's happening. Jean stares at her, with a worried look on his face that read we're trying to save you, here. All of them had been unfortunate enough to encounter Mikasa and Eren's haircut days, save for Historia and they would make sure they never did if she wanted to keep her eyes safe. It was an uglier sight than Titans.

"Historia," he states, grabbing both of her shoulders, "no."

For her own sake and her own sanity.

On the other side of the wall, Mikasa had finished cutting strands of his hair off in order to try and give his visage a better view but it ended up uneven again. Yet, his hair were the least of their worries right now. They both lay in his cut hair, Mikasa on her back staring up at the ceiling. Eren on his stomach, relieved to have the weight of her off his back. They both pant, breathing heavily and both too tired to move. Their limbs hurt from having flailed and jumped around. How is it they could fatigued from a haircut? A haircut.

A damn haircut.

Whatever made it that way, they would both never know. Soon, the two of them fell asleep, curled up together much like they would do when they were children and it was cold. It was only a matter of time before this happened again. The optimist in this would see it as a good workout, but there was no optimist in this situation. Just two very tired teenagers who were relieved it was over for now, but dreading the day it rolled around again.

S:

Levi walked the halls, making his way to his room for his rest tonight until he hears tumbling and profanities that fall from both the mouths of Jaeger and Ackerman. Thin ebony brows knit together, curiosity overtaking him as his footsteps take him towards the room they are both currently residing in - only to find the horror that awaits him.

They had warned him about this.

When this was heard, use the backdoor but he had only scoffed and told them how he cared not for childish games.

Yet, it looked as if Ackerman was determined in cutting his hair and Jaeger was oddly distressed by it.

Features darkened, he made his way to his room, managing to keep a cool facade throughout the journey after seeing that horrifying position the two rookies were in.

He never lived it down.


End file.
